Innocence || Gotham

after epilogue one-shot

Evelyn used to believe that no one was born a murderer. Hell, she still does. She figured that out not too long after she thought Jerome has died. Evelyn had the strong belief that no one was a born a psycho, they were simply raised to become one.

And that, she believes, is what happened to her.

Evelyn never killed squirrels or harmed other children to 'channel' her inner psycho as a child. As everyone knows, Evelyn didn't harm a soul until she was fourteen.

The young woman leans back against her cozy armchair. She holds her mug of tea close to her, sitting calmly in the dark. She gazes at the large city view before her, relaxing herself with the lights and her tea.

The sun should rise soon, she thinks to herself. She lets one leg dangle off the edge before she takes a sip of her hot tea.

Evelyn Carter has never felt this relaxed before. It's been a hell of a year for her. So much, too much, has happened.

Her scar seems to gleam from the lights of the city. The sun has yet to rise. Her dyed hair reaches past her shoulders, ending at her chest.

A loud knock echoes throughout the otherwise silent apartment. Evelyn looks over at her front door, frowning in confusion.

Who would be here at six in the morning?

She slowly stands, keeping her mug in one hand before making her way to the dining table. She reaches beneath, grabbing the pistol strapped underneath it.

The guest knocks again, making Evelyn glare at the front door. Someone's wasting her relaxing time. Her bare feet lightly slap against the smooth floor before she stands on her toes to look through the door's peephole.

A large man (in width rather than length) gives an eerie grin as he stands there with a wrapped box and a few balloons.

"Go away," she commands loud enough for the larger man to hear. Through the peephole, she seems him jump. He looks at the peephole in a pleading manner, the large grin still on his face. It's then Evelyn notices the tear streaming down his cheeks and the blood spilling from his grin.

Her eyes widen at the blood. "Please," the man begs, "open the door."

Evelyn puts her mug aside, keeping the gun aimed at the door before reluctantly opening it. "Who are you?" She snaps, opening it only a little.

The large man offers the colorfully wrapped box. A present, Evelyn realizes. Her ice blue eyes make contact with the man's pleading ones. The present shakes as he does. Through his pained tears, he starts singing shakily.

As he sings the wretched song, Evelyn gingerly takes gift and balloons from him. She takes a step back, allowing the door to open completely to give her a better view.

Once he finishes, Evelyn tilts her head in curiosity. "Who sent you?" She questions, already knowing the answer.

"H-He said you'd k-know," the man stutters in a soft whisper, eyes clenching shut from the pain every time his mouth opens.

Evelyn nods sympathetically. "I understand," she admits gently before aiming the gun at his forehead. "Thank you."

The muffled shot makes the man freeze in his spot before he slowly falls backward into the hallway. With a sigh, Evelyn closes the door behind her, leaving the dead man in the hallway.

Her eyes narrow at the box wrapped in blue. A dark blue bow is tied on top, looking too pretty for something from Jerome. She lets go of the balloons, allowing them to float to her ceiling.